yoo i'm really bad at making wip intros so i'ma just do this lol
eris!! my happy indulgent wip!! i'm excited so here's an aesthetic and let's gooooo
what is it?
i wanted to write an unapologetically evil character, in a be very gay do much crimes sort of way, so behold-
what if someone like azula was a cousin of a noble family, grew up in a big city... and was sent to live in a small town when she was 12?
lyssa is that person, and her goal is to grow into her true potential as a leader by taking over tallia and ruling it. lol. there’s an amalgamation of reasons: seeking status, bad habits, a superiority complex, and boredom. also feeling like she's unworthy if she fails... there's a lotta shit going on in her head ngl
where is it?
so for meta reasons (i want tallia to be in the same world as my other medieval fantasy love) tallia happens to be nestled in a south american climate. not my expertise (i'm canadian baby) but i'm looking forward to it! lyssa's hometown is in a savanna near the rainforest, and she moves to the edge of the desert. big change, she ain't happy.
who is it?
lyssa ; the pov character, the source of everyone's troubles. the driving force of the tragedy. she could almost be good: she’s efficient, determined, hardworking, honest, reliable... except for the teeny tiny little fact that she very much craves power above all. azula, macbeth, or tigerclawstar coded, if you will. specifically tiger in his goldenflower era bc he did love his family but chose his ambitions over them with really terrible rationalizations
rieka ; the runaway girlfriend who could be "good" but a life without lyssa is not worth living. her devotion and love dooms her to remain at lyssa's side even as the flames consume them. has a werewolf-flavoured arc of eldest sisterdom, à la caterina algren.
jesper ; the if-oxford-existed cousin, who may have been too hasty in dogging lyssa's heels. perhaps his grandmother was right when she said his soft heart would be his greatest curse. now, his only option is to fight and lie and hurt and lie until he no longers haunts himself. songs are "bad people" (lauren aquilina) and "gold" (imagine dragons).
final words
surprise surprise i made a pinterest board
uhh yeah that's it! if you'd like to know more feel free to ask! and if you want to be tagged and whatever let me know
thanks @violets-in-her-arms-writes for the tag! took me a few days, but here i am lol
i was given trip, throne, tired, tempt, and tone. i switched the latter two's order because both answers are from the same scene and chronologically it worked better haha
also editing to put it under a read more because damn i pasted a lot
trip ; i got nothing for this ;-;
throne ; once upon a cursèd dream
A thought brushes against the back of my mind. I have yet to see her face, but she seems familiar. Her thin frame, delicate hands, and there—a faint mark on her forearm. I suck in a sharp breath and finally lift my gaze.
Our eyes meet. She has stopped in her tracks, only halfway through the throne room, but I don’t blame her. She whispers under her breath and her eyes, light brown and familiar, flick across my body. In a daze, I rise from my throne and shake off Mother hissing my name. I know everyone is staring at us, I can feel the curious heat of their eyes, but for once I am able to ignore them.
(re)tired ; long live the queen
I sank into the music, savouring it and committing it to memory until I heard it next. We danced for two songs afterwards, then retired from the floor. We made our way to his parents, who stood by the marble fountain talking with Lords Cassius and Alba. The two men bowed and excused themselves, leaving Theodore and I alone with Cadmus and Priscilla.
“Felicem diem brumatis,” I greeted.
“Happy solstice,” they returned, Priscilla a beat behind her husband.
(s)tone ; eris
(a dark sapphic fantasy that i hope to introduce sometime. aesthetic rbs here. also this "line" is ridiculously long but i'm also very fond of this entire scene so-)
The outskirts of Feyre weren’t pretty. If Lyssa was honest, the whole area surrounding the capital was dreary: a monotonous collection of farms and gaunt faces trudging down the murky streets. The north end of the city was likely the finest urban neighborhood in Tallia, the home of the wealthy, but the streets gradually worsened towards the south. Despite Lyssa’s grand plans of revolution, she didn’t like being in Feyre longer than she had to unless she was in the north end. Unfortunately, she was meeting an informant in Eira Park; not the picture of wealth.
She strode through the streets, weeds and stones bowing beneath her feet. The houses here were clustered closer than Llorian marriages, with solid bases but looking weaker the taller they were. The people of Feyre preferred growing up than out, which made for a few unstable structures.
It didn’t take much longer for her to arrive at the meeting spot: Rafe’s Tavern. The building looked to be three houses stacked on top of each other, the tavern at the bottom melding into the stone foundation that stretched across the whole block. Lyssa ducked under the hand-painted sign hanging in the doorway—not the smartest architectural decision—and claimed a small table away from the rowdy men arm-wrestling in the corner. She reached into her gold pouch and pulled out a coin for when the barmaid came around, then rested her forearms on the table. A minute later, a barmaid came around and Lyssa ordered a pint of berry mead. The tavern door creaked open and two people came in, her informant and—
Rieka?
tempt ; eris
Lyssa scoffed. “I know someone who would spill information to me like water from a bucket. You don’t know that Rieka doesn’t have someone.”
“She doesn’t, I swear.”
Lyssa chuckled, but before she could say anything more, the barmaid arrived with her berry mead. While Melian ordered, Lyssa took the chance to look at Rieka for the first time in a while. She was sturdy and lithe but hunched. Her silver-white hair hung heavy around her porcelain skin, slick and tangly. Lyssa reached a foot across the floor and touched her calf. Rieka startled but smiled at Lyssa. “You’re Rieka?”
Rieka’s face slid into a blank mask, which Lyssa knew was because she didn’t want to laugh and give the game away. Even though the two hadn’t seen each other in nearly a year, the lure of playing with an unwitting person was too tempting. “Yes, ma’am.”
tagging @reneesbooks, @the-stray-storyteller, @gummybugg, and whoever else wants to for the words dark, grin, breath(e), scream, and music
(also renee and cécile you're both on the oucd taglist so there's a sneak peek of a shabby draft for you up there)
